


Broken Smile

by chromyrose



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dreambubbles, F/M, Gen, HSWC Bonus Round, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1675190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromyrose/pseuds/chromyrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aranea♦Horuss</p>
<p>Remember when Horuss realized "just pretend to be happy" wasn't working for him and Aranea helped him find a better way to cope?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Smile

**Author's Note:**

> for the 2014 HSWC Bonus Round 1

Aranea was drawn away from her thoughts when she heard a sound that she had not heard in quite a long time: the sound of metal being crushed. She found herself outside of Horuss' workshop, and the door was ajar. Unable to quell her curiosity, Aranea peered in through the gap in the door and saw Horuss' back bowed over a work table. She stepped closer, and before she knocked she saw that it was the work table itself whose surface was becoming marred, that Horuss was clenching it with his bare fingers and leaving deep grooves in the steel.

“Horuss?” She called. He straighted up, and his ponytail bobbed up as he did so. There was a moment of hesitation as he brought his hands back to his sides, then turned around.

“Oh, hello there, Aranea,” he said brightly, with his ever-present smile fixed in place. “I didn't hear you come in. The place is a bit of a mess right now, I am ever so sorry about that.” 

Aranea stepped in past the threshold, and looked around; 'a bit of a mess' was an understatement, with the dismembered robotic limbs strewn all over the floor, some of them with sparking wires sticking out. Broken goggles were on the floor, as were his destrengthening gloves, which she supposed explained the damage to, well, everything.

Then she looked at him, and saw that the goggles he was wearing were fogged up, that there was color in his cheekbones, and that his smile was quavering like there was an earthquake on his face. 

“Horuss,” she sighed, stepping over robotic digits and up to him. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing!” He said too quickly. “I am just... performing some routine maintence.”

“I'm not naïve,” Aranea responded impatiently. “And... have you been crying?” 

“Horsenestly, Aranea!” He gasped, his tone made of ire even though he was _still_ grinning. No wonder Meenah found it so unsettling. “Why on Beforus would I be crying?”

“I'm not sure,” she said, suddenly feeling a rush of pity, and patience along with it. “How about we sit down and you tell me?” 

He sighed again. “I already _have_ a moirail,” he protested. But his protest was weak, and when Aranea papped his cheek, he hummed. 

“Should I go collect her?” She offered. Horuss jerked his head away a little quickly.

“No!” He answered. “...It's not that I do not love her,” he added. “I just do not think her advice is... something I really need to hear right now.”

“What, smiling isn't going to help you get through this?” Aranea teased, but when Horuss did not respond she frowned. “What happened, anyways?” 

“It would appear... that... I have become too over-bearing for Rufioh,” Horuss' voice cracked. “He does not enjoy my company anymore.”

Aranea's bloodpusher tightened, and she sighed, “Oh, Horuss...”

He started crying. Though they had grown up as neighbors, their hives only separated by a small but very deep valley, Aranea could not remember the last time she saw Horuss cry. He had shown a wide range of emotions before Meulin and an eternity in the dreambubbles got to him, made him a little more broken, but vulnerability was not often one of them; for a moment, Aranea didn't even know what to do. She stood on the tips of her toes and reached her arms around his broad shoulders for a hug; he bent over and pushed his face, goggles and all, into her shoulder.

“Let's take these off,” she murmured, unclasping his headgear. She felt the goggles come loose against her shoulder and shrugged to pull them away. Horuss pulled away from her with a wet sniffle, and reached for a dirty handkerchief. He wiped up his indigo tears, and for the first time she could remember Aranea saw his white eyes. There was a pile of junk in one corner of the room, covered in towels that for the most part seemed clean, so she took Horuss' hand and led him over there. They got settled in, and Horuss sniffled again.

“I am so sorry, Aranea.”

“Don't be silly, Horuss,” she replied with a gentle 'pap' to his arm. “Just relax and tell me the whole story.”


End file.
